


Been Waiting On You

by mynameispiaivy



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: A bit of kink, Anniversary, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Party, brief mention of some of the major/minor characters of the show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:29:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21800974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mynameispiaivy/pseuds/mynameispiaivy
Summary: Johnny and Moira celebrates their 40th wedding anniversary and the whole town throws them a party.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 20
Kudos: 26
Collections: Schitt's Creek Open Fic Night 2.0





	Been Waiting On You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [schittsgeek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/schittsgeek/gifts).



> the black leather jacket that David wore when he had that revenge sex with Sebastian? Let's just say Patrick doesn't like it, or does he?

**_Patrick_ **

  
  


The air surrounding Patrick was very inviting, savory and decadent. Laid on the long oak table are different cuts of cheeses, a basket of bread rolls, lemon tarts, a large platter of nuts and fruits, and a bowl of casserole or possibly soup, he’s not even sure what that green stuff is since everybody brought their potluck contribution for tonight. He made sure to have an open bar for the grownups, a choice of orange juice or water to those who didn't wish to drink. 

Everybody who was somebody in Schitt’s Creek was already there. These “somebody” were actually the mayor, Roland and his wife Jocelyn, their two year old son, Rolly Jr., the council members Ronnie and her partner Lydia, Bob and his wife Gwen, the Jazzagals, Ray with his “friend” Gus. Gus was someone who Patrick may have met at a conference in Vancouver a month ago. Who happens to be interested in doing some business in town. Patrick had introduced him to Ray to see some possible places he could put up his record/studio shop. The thing is, Gus used to be in a band during the mid-nineties. His band, The Bourgeois Scoundrels had one album that was critically acclaimed by that Rolling Stone, even proclaiming them to be the next big thing out of Seattle. But that never happened, instead three months after the article came out, the band broke up. Gus, being the main songwriter of the group and lead singer of the band, decided to go back to college and get a business degree at the University of Washington. Hence the reason how Patrick met him at the conference and telling Gus how him and his fiance David, had successfully put up a general store, but very specific store in Schitt’s Creek. Gus wanted to discover new talents and make music again. And him meeting Patrick, who he may have mentioned in passing, had sometimes dabbled in making music himself, was like a happy circumstance. Patrick had to take the opportunity to create music again one way or the other, and Gus was that person that could make it happen.

Patrick, who had two drinks in him, glanced at his watch and saw that it was fifteen minutes past seven. The invitation said the party was supposed to start at exactly seven o’clock and by the looks of it, the actual people gathering was put up in the first place was late, as per usual. From the opened doorway, he saw four people, clad in their fanciest clothes and jewels, making an entrance as if they owned the place. He could hear the oohs and ahhs around him as they made a grand entrance, waving at random people in the room, walking slowly like they were in some red carpet event. He snickered to himself that this was not uncommon nor is unusual to see. The Roses have always demanded attention in any way that they can, whether the occasion was just a small gathering of people, simple folk who had never once been in some fancy after party of any grand ceremony, lest be invited to such an extravagant event. The people who are here, in this roughly three hundred and eighty five square foot area, are the ones who are special to them, who they consider as family. It is in fact Johnny and Moira’s fortieth wedding anniversary, and they are celebrating it the best way they can. 

Leading the troop is nonetheless the patriarch himself, Johnny Rose, his hand holding the very exuberant Moira Rose, who was wearing an all black ensemble, her black gown muted and simple, which is very uncharacteristic of the matriarch. But what was expected of her was wearing a statement piece to make her stand out, and this happened to be the piece she was wearing on top of her head. The majestic Tyn hat sits prettily on her head, like an elaborate crown, as if she is some sort of an african tribal queen. Several black plumes, the tips of which were dyed white, were woven in a circular fashion on a black leather mat, where two black strings on each side can be seen and were to be tied underneath the chin of the wearer. This headdress is a show stopper. Moira indeed caught the eyes of everybody, and by the looks of it, she is enjoying this undivided attention. Just a few steps behind the couple are the younger Roses. Alexis was wearing this slinky, short, sleeveless silver dress that accentuated the length of her already long legs. She had her hair pulled up into a messy bun, few tendrils of her blonde wavy hair stylishly loosened and framing her beautiful face. Patrick noticed the tan lines on her shoulders, having just arrived a couple of weeks ago from the Galapagos with Ted. Alexis walked briskly away from the group, as she found her way to Ted who was standing at the right side of the room, getting a drink from the bartender. Patrick then moved his eyes away from Alexis and found the man he was waiting for in the last twenty minutes. He was still standing behind his parents, eyes scouring the crowd for Patrick. It never failed to make Patrick lose his breath whenever he sees David. Tonight though, David was prepared to murder Patrick with his outfit, with what looked like the very sinful black leather jacket that he swore he would never wear unless he is about to pull. Fuck it, Patrick was already anticipating to be pulled by his fiance tonight, to whatever darkened space he could find to have his way with him. 

He leisurely watched David from across the crowded area, who Patrick noticed had now reached behind him, getting his phone out. David fingers began tapping his phone, probably sending him a text to ask where he was. Patrick felt his phone vibrating from his pocket, but he had no intention of checking it, he was quite certain who sent it and what the message was about. He freely gazed his fiance from a somewhat concealed part of the room. David would’ve seen him by now if not for the spray that kept him partially hidden from him. He stayed where he was, making no effort to reveal his whereabouts. Patrick can’t take his eyes away from David, as if he had the constitution of not always looking at the love of his life. There’s just something about David that made him stand out. He often wondered why there wasn’t a moment he was turned off from David’s slightly… alright, it’s actually massive confidence and inflated ego, or his pompous nature. In the first few days after he’d met David, he slowly found out that those are his walls. That it would take a very observant and patient man to try and burn those walls and see the true beauty of a David Rose. It took him weeks to have a glimpse of it, until all the walls finally cracked and made an opening for him to see further. And once all the walls came tumbling down, he had the true David Rose, the David Rose that he had begged to go hiking almost two years ago and asked to marry him. And up to this day, he still can’t believe how lucky he was that his car broke down in Schitt’s Creek when Patrick needed to flee and find himself. 

Patrick was never into brunettes. Come to think of it, most of his relationships were either gingers or blondes, but never a brunette. As a matter of fact, he was certain up to a point that he was never attracted to people with dicks and scruffs on their chiseled faces. Sometimes, he wondered, was it just because of David that he was suddenly drawn to tall brunettes, with caramel colored skin, that have this adorable smirk whenever he was caught being sappy, swearing he was not a romantic, that also have strong broad shoulders that is perfect to have your head lean on to when you feel like napping. 

He moved his head, trying to get a better view of David from this obnoxiously big flower arrangement that Twyla brought for the party. She swore her cousin is an amateur events coordinator and makes beautiful centerpieces for weddings, baptisms, debuts and funerals. But by the looks of the types of flowers she chose for the spray, Twyla may have forgotten to mention that it was for a wedding anniversary party and not a funeral service. Patrick pushed himself off the wall and strode towards David who was still searching the crowd for him. He wanted to end his fiance's misery, David was already wearing that disgruntled pelican look on him, even hyperextending his neck to try and look over the crowd for Patrick. Poor thing.

“Hey.”

  
  
  


*********

  
  


**_David_ **

  
  


“You cut your hair.” 

“Indeed I did, David.”

He extended his hand, as if by instinct, and ran his fingers through the cropped version of the used to be a tumble of chestnut curls on his fiancé's head, that somehow defied the rules of gravity he had so loved so much. David doesn’t want to get mad. Tonight was not about him nor was it about Patrick. But he can’t help being pissed about it. Patrick’s curls is one of the favorite things he loves about him, well, aside from his cock and the way he fucks him with it.

“You’re angry.” Patrick moved closer to him, his lips ghosting on the shell of his ear. “You don’t like it?”

“No.” David felt a bolt of lightning from the tips of his lobes down to his crotch. He felt himself blushing for some reason. In an attempt to be apathetic, David casts his eyes to the floor and took a step back. He felt Patrick grabbing him by his waist and pulled him close to his chest.

“No?” Patrick’s hand glided from his waist to his back, up to the back of his neck, making him look up and see the small but teasing smile creeping on his fiance’s face. Something stirred in him, taking over his logical thinking. They were looking at each other as if there was a building inferno inside of them, ready to erupt at any moment.

“Patrick, what are you doing?”

“Why did you wear this jacket, David?”

“This old thing?”

“You know what this jacket is, David. Don’t play coy with me.” Patrick’s shifted closer. David could smell his breath, and it smelled of whiskey. When he tried to turn his face away, his nose almost grazed Patrick’s cheek. They were standing too close. So close.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“David.”

Just at the right moment, Moira stepped into their space and exclaimed, “David.. Patrick. We should get along. The feast awaits.” 

“Mrs. Rose, Happy Anniversary.” Patrick released him and faced his mother, but not before entwining their hands together. David sighed, not because he despised the sudden interruption, but he had actually welcomed it. There was just too much tension and salacious interaction between him and Patrick. Making a scene tonight is just incorrect. With the state that he is right now, and his hardening cock, David thanked God for his mother and her non existent respect for boundaries. 

Patrick kissed his mother, once on each cheek, David did the same soon after. He caught his mother saying, “So, children.” then stared at them with an arched eyebrow. “May I remind you, that this social gathering was thrown for me and your father and not the apt time for any lewd activities. It is in fact our anniversary, you silly boys.” 

“Mrs. Rose, I’m sorry. Can you, uhm…” Patrick tugged his hand forward, making him bump his shoulders to his father’s who was looking around the room. He turned to them with wide eyes, oblivious of what just happened. “Mr. Rose! Is it... uhm, can I steal David for just a moment. I think he left something inside my car. We won’t be long.”

“Patrick... David. Well if you boys must.” His father glanced at his mother before saying, “We’ll be starting dinner soon.” He looked at David straight in the eye and continued, “Don’t be long.”

“You know what? I don’t… “

Patrick cuts him, “Thank you Mr. and Mrs. Rose. Again, Happy Anniversary. I love your dress, Mrs. Rose. The suit, Mr. Rose is just impeccable. David?”

“Ah yes. Thank you, Patrick. Moira and I will just do our rounds with the guests. We’ll see you in fifteen minutes. Will that be alright, boys?”

“Yes, yes Mr. Rose. We won’t be long. We just got to grab what David forgot in my car.”

David practically stumbles with the way Patrick was almost dragging him out of the room. He could hear Stevie from the crowd shouting their names, but Patrick seemed to be on a mission tonight. And they are not stopping for anybody, not even for Beyoncè.

“Patrick.” They were sprinting so fast he could feel himself getting out of breath. He tried again. “Patrick, we can actually walk you know. I don’t know why we are running." 

“We don’t have time.” Patrick said matter-of-factly.

“Time for what?” David almost shouted out of exasperation. “Patrick, your car is right there. We don’t need to run.”

As they reached the darkened alley where Patrick parked his car, David could feel the stirring in the air. Once they reached Patrick’s car, he pushed him to the hood of the car, his back bumping the left side-view mirror.

“Holy fuck, Patrick!” He yelped.

David felt himself being lifted up, Patrick’s strong arms holding underside of his thighs, raising him up, as if he weighed nothing. 

“Patrick.”

He felt Patrick’s anticipation. There was this sort of urgency of being together in that moment and it’s exciting... intoxicating even. Patrick held his face and kissed him hard. His tongue demanding access in to his mouth. His left hand grabbed the hems of David’s shirt, pulling them up, exposing his chest. They were both panting now, their kisses becoming sloppy. Patrick’s right hand roves to his chest, his fingers finding his nipple. It started as gentle touches until Patrick began flicking it then pinching them hard. David moaned through their heated kiss, his body impulsively rutting on Patrick’s tight stomach. 

“Jesus, David.”

Every nerve in David’s body began to ignite. His breathing becoming deeper, his heart pounding wildly. Patrick reached inside his tight pants then cupped him. Patrick moved his hands up and down his clothed cock, purposeful at first until it became erratic, like he was rushing on something. 

“We only got eleven minutes left, David. Please, I want to put my mouth on you.”

“Patrick, wait. We got to…”

David’s muddled brain is electrified. He doesn’t know if he’s asking Patrick to wait and stop, or wait because he needs to touch Patrick too. David tried to ignore the hesitancy, and started thinking of how it can be good for the both of them. He got an idea. “We don’t have time for that, Patrick. Get your cock out, I’ll finish the both of us off.”

It was like a light bulb moment, both of them moving fast. David slid further down the hood of the car, their groins aligning. Without fully unzipping his pants, David pushed them down together with his silk briefs. Patrick audibly gulped, as he saw his hard cock springing free. He eyed Patrick’s every movement, as he hastily pushed his 501’s down his thighs. They looked at each other as David wrapped his hand on the both of them.

“Nine minutes, David.”

“You think we’ll last that long? We’ll be done in three minutes.”

“That’s overly presumptuous of you.” 

“Ha, baby. As if you don’t know us. C’mon, spit.”

With their eyes locking, Patrick spat on David’s right hand as reaches down and held their cocks together. He began with slow strokes, setting up a comfortable rhythm until he saw Patrick’s lips making a silent O. David then expertly moved his hands up and down, gripping both their cocks tightly, his thumb brushing lightly on the head of Patrick’s dick, just the way he likes it.

“David, faster.”

“Yeah.”

“You think… Together?” Patrick panted.

“Always.” David said breathlessly. 

They kissed, more urgent as before. Each moment burning, both getting lost in a heady trance of passion. David’s calculated ministrations began to falter, his hand pulled and tugged at their cocks in an irregular way. He can feel the heat in his groin and it’s impending release when he heard Patrick spoke.

“David.” He moaned.

“Together.” David said back.

And just like that, they came together, outside Mutt’s farmhouse, slash events place, slash venue for his parent’s fortieth wedding anniversary, slash where anyone who is somebody in Schitt’s Creek is now waiting for them to come back for the dinner to start rolling.

With two minutes to spare, they cleaned each other up inside the car with the windows rolled up. He grabbed a couple of the baby wipes Patrick always stores inside his car. Just as David was about to open the door, Patrick pulled him back, his back hitting Patrick’s shoulder.

“Take this off, David.” Patrick commanded as he began pulling his jacket off his body. “Don’t fucking wear this again, David, or else, I’ll drag you again somewhere and fuck you senseless. I don’t care if the Queen or Oprah is in the next room conducting a book club.” He then tossed the jacket at the backseat of the car.

“What... Do you want me to freeze in the cold? I don’t have an extra jacket with me, Patrick.”

“I have this black and white cannabis print cardigan in the car, David.”

“How dare you? Those are Amiri black palm leaves cardigan, Patrick.”

Patrick laughed, “Yeah, those. I have them in the trunk.”

“But what about my other jacket?”

“I’ll keep them here.. For now. You can only wear them where and when I want you to.” 

“You’re so fucking bossy.”

“Those _fuck me_ leather jacket is only for me, David. Same as those brown leather loafers you bought for me that you said I can only wear on special occasions. Those are for you. And I wore them today, for your information. I wore them tonight because I know it will make you happy and not those fugly hiking boots that you detest so much.”

“I did notice when you were visibly ogling me a while ago. You look very nice, Brewer.”

“Thank you, David. Well, in case I didn't get the chance to tell you a few minutes ago, you are fucking beautiful wearing that damn jacket. Not that you are less beautiful now with whatever you are wearing. But, seeing you wear that jacket… I just couldn’t wait to get my hands on you.”

“You are such a horn dog, Patrick.”

“I am only horny for you, Mr. Rose.”

“Eww, No. Don’t you ever call me by that name.”

“What do you want me to call you then?”

“Mr. Rose-Brewer if you don't mind.”

“Oh, Mr. Rose-Brewer is it? Why not Mr. Brewer-Rose then?”

“Well, Rose-Brewer have a better ring to it, don’t you agree?”

“We can talk about that later. We have… “ Patrick checked on his watch, “forty five seconds left. We have to go back or else your sister will have a fit.”

“You know her so well, Patrick.”

“And I still have a lifetime to know her better.”

David puckered his lips, Patrick indulging him with a kiss. They smiled, their mouths stretching wider than it should, fighting between a grinning and kissing. Patrick was the one who pulled back, then gave David chaste kiss.

“C’mon, lover. Let’s get back inside. We have a party to go to.”

  
  


*********

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I may or may not make another chapter of this later. That darn jacket is just sinful and they need to play more with it. I just hope I don't procastinate and get distracted with life. If you got here, you done reading. Thank you so much, and I apologize if you see a lot of errors. I didn't have a proper beta to look into my grammar and stuff, and just free-balled everything, teehee.


End file.
